


the legends and the myths (i want something just like this)

by very_important_army



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Domestic Fluff, Fairy Yixing, God of Spiders Kyungsoo, God of Winter Minseok, Human Luhan, M/M, Monsters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:48:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26228941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/very_important_army/pseuds/very_important_army
Summary: What did Luhan do to deserve all his bad luck? All he's ever done is shower Minseok with love.(Yixing disagrees. He says Luhan deserves to be punished for his stinky feet alone.)
Relationships: Kim Minseok | Xiumin/Lu Han
Kudos: 32
Collections: EXO Home4U - 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for prompt 321 for Home4U!
> 
> The worst part about getting home is having to jump off a waterfall. The best part of getting home is landing in Minseok's arms after he falls.
> 
> Dear lord, I had so many _plans_ for this fic but motivation got away from me.

####  Prologue:

It was supposed to be a quick trip. Luhan never expected it to turn out like this.

"I've never met anyone as unlucky as you are," Yixing muses.

"Shut up." Luhan glares. Minseok’s sweet laughter rings from behind him, his arms around Luhan’s waist. His glare melts off his face, and he beams at his lover with adoring eyes. 

Yixing pretends to retch, fairy glitter spraying onto the armrest of the couch where he sits. If fairy dust weren’t so magical and expensive, Luhan would be unspeakably disgusted. 

As it stands, Luhan is still mildly grossed out. 

“Tell me what happened,” Minseok requests. “You were supposed to be back  _ weeks  _ ago.” 

“It’s Luhan’s fault,” Yixing immediately blames. Luhan begins to protest. 

“Of course it was,” Minseok agrees. Luhan turns to his lover, betrayed. 

“Look,” Luhan snaps, “so this is what happened…”

####  ~~~

Luhan wakes up on the cold, hard ground with a suspicious tingle on his temple. He opens his eyes blearily to see the forest that he fell asleep in last night, and he groans, reaching up to scratch at his head. 

His fingertips touch something furry.

Luhan shrieks loudly, jolting upright and flinging the spider ten feet away from him. It’s gigantic, nearly the size of his palm. Perhaps “tarantula” would be a more accurate description. The arachnid slowly crawls back to its feet, and Luhan can almost  _ feel _ the dirty glare sent his way. He sends a quick apology to Lord Kyungsoo, minor god of spiders. 

Somehow, Yixing has slept through this. Luhan sighs, crawling over to nudge his fairy companion awake. He’s about the size of a large butterfly, light enough to make the leaf on a nearby sprout his bed. Luhan and the dull ache in his bones are jealous. Yixing doesn’t stir, even when Luhan prods a finger into his side. Some guardian he is. 

Desperate times. Luhan flicks the stem attached to the leaf, watching in satisfaction as the plant wobbles wildly, provoking the sleeping fairly to launch himself straight into the air, wings fluttering so fast they’re nearly invisible. 

“What’s  _ wrong  _ with you?” For all the talk of fairies being gentle, forgiving creatures, Yixing could be pretty grumpy in the mornings. 

“We gotta go,” Luhan says. He presses his hand against his pocket. Still there.

“Relax, it’s not like Minseok’s going anywhere,” Yixing teases. 

“I miss him,” Luhan whines. “I want to go home.” He finishes rolling up his sleeping gear, bundling it up and strapping it to his back. “Which way is home?” 

Yixing points in a seemingly random direction. Luhan knows not to question him by now, despite how dazed he can be with anything else. Navigation has always come innately to the fairy, which is why Luhan dragged him along on his journey. 

“Let’s go, then,” Luhan says, heading towards the direction Yixing had pointed in. Yixing grabs the back of his shirt and yanks. For such a little thing, he’s freakishly strong. “Ow!”

“Watch where you’re going, idiot.” There’s a huge spider web spanning between the two trees Luhan had just been about to walk through. 

Luhan shudders, still feeling the phantom legs of the spider that woke him up crawling on his skin. “Gross. There’s so many spiders here, let’s get out of here.” 

\--

“Do you feel like something’s following us?” Luhan asks. The hair on the back of his neck prickles uncomfortably. He rests one hand on the hilt of his dagger. Yixing’s navigation may be painfully accurate, but it’s also awfully non-linear. They’ve had to trample through branches, wade across swamps, and crawl under giant hedges. Or rather, Luhan did. Yixing just flew over everything. Fairy navigation has no regard for human obstacles. Still though, it’s an awfully inconvenient path for someone to just coincidentally be on the same path as them, yet Luhan can’t shake the feeling of being watched. 

“You’re just imagining it,” Yixing chides. “We’re in the middle of nowhere, who else could be around?” 

“A pissed off god waiting for the perfect opportunity for vengeance?” Luhan guesses wryly. 

“Well, have you pissed off any gods lately?” 

“Minseok, for yeeting off without explanation?” Luhan offers. To be fair, Luhan is a terrible liar, especially when faced with Minseok. It’s not like he was going to  _ tell _ him that Luhan was off to find the ring that Minseok lost so many eons ago, so the best option was just to not say anything at all. 

“Minseok knows what you’re like by now,” Yixing snorts. “He probably just wrote it off as you being a dumbass again.” Luhan scowls at him. Seriously, whoever said that fairies were nice clearly has never met Yixing. 

“Seriously though,” Luhan groans in frustration. “There is  _ something _ following us.” Luhan turns around, treading lightly around the fallen leaves on the ground, dagger in hand. He ignores Yixing’s exasperated  _ oh for Junmyeon’s sake, I thought you couldn’t wait to go home to Minseok  _ and dramatically pulls aside a low hanging branch. 

Behind the leaves, a small doe blinks lethargically at him. It seems smaller than usual, something not quite natural about it. There’s a dried strip of fruit in its mouth. 

“Oh,  _ Minseok, _ ” Luhan swears. He pulls his sack around to see a small hole at the bottom, a strip of jerky poking out. 

“Does Minseok know you use his name as a swear?” Yixing asks curiously. 

“That’s not the point,” Luhan gripes, patching the hole to the best of his ability. The doe has inched closer. It’s a little unnerving. 

Luhan backs up slowly. Yixing blinks slowly at him. “What are you doing?”

“There’s something wrong with this thing,” Luhan hisses. The doe’s eyes have the faintest sheen of golden, and that’s all Luhan needs to confirm that this is no ordinary animal. 

“Let’s go this way,” Yixing says, taking a sharp left. Luhan tramples after him. “There’s a stream here. It won’t follow us.” 

“It’s just a stream,” Luhan points out, hopping across nimbly. It barely spans three feet, easy enough for even Luhan’s “clumsy human appendages” (according to Yixing and Minseok) to jump across. 

“Running water,” Yixing says plainly, like that explains everything. Maybe it does. Luhan doesn’t question it. After all, the doe isn’t moving from the opposite bank, still staring at them with those unsettling golden eyes. Luhan shudders, skin prickling with a thousand phantom spines.

“Well, at least that’s taken care of,” Luhan says, hefting his pack higher up on his shoulders and mourning the loss of his snacks. 

They trek for a while longer, as the sun climbs higher into the sky. Luhan’s in the middle of crawling over a log, used as a makeshift bridge across a river, when Yixing stops suddenly. 

“I’m hungry,” the fairy announces. Luhan looks up from where he’s perched precariously on the wood, furiously raging waters splashing against his knees. 

“You kinda have to let me get back on dry land first,” Luhan says dryly. 

“Well, hurry up then,” Yixing looks at him, bemused, as if he couldn’t possibly understand what was taking Luhan so long. He’s been sitting on the opposite bank for the past ten minutes, calling out absolutely unhelpful commentary, such as “Wow! Look at that giant fish, I think it wants to eat you!” 

When Luhan finally reaches sweet, solid ground again, he collapses onto his back. Yixing prods his cheek with a tiny, but no less sharp, fingernail. “Feed me,” his so-called best friend demands. With a long-suffering groan, Luhan reaches into his pack and pulls out a handful of snacks: dried fruit, dried meat, and a single fresh apple.

“Dibs on the apple,” Luhan says, plucking Yixing’s entire body away from the fruit. The fairy dangles from his fingertips, scowling. 

“That’s so unfair,” Yixing complains, wriggling out of Luhan’s hold, but he flies to the jerky anyway, nibbling on a piece nearly as big as he is, munching petulantly. 

Luhan takes one big, victorious bite of the apple, before everything fades to black. 


	2. Chapter 2

Luhan’s first thought when he wakes up is  _ warm.  _ His blanket is nice and cozy, his mattress soft, and the arm around him strong and secure. He arches his back, pressing his body against Minseok’s in the way that he knows will fit against his lover’s like two puzzle pieces. 

Minseok groans, tightening his grip around Luhan’s waist briefly, before he sits up, wide awake like the morning person he is. Luhan whines, a high-pitched sound deep in his throat. He paws at Minseok’s chest, firm and solid and bare, delighting at the smooth skin beneath his fingertips. Minseok laughs cutely, catching his hand and pressing a kiss to his fingertips. 

“Stay,” Luhan pleads, eyes half shut. Minseok, that traitor, just hops out of bed and begins tucking the rumpled blanket back in place, around Luhan’s still-drowsy body. Luhan complains weakly, but he’s too used to Minseok being too grossly chipper in the mornings to really put up a fight, so he just mewls a little and points at his puckered lips in expectation. 

Beautiful Minseok, with his silver sleep-rumpled hair and matching blue-striped pajamas, small kittenish mouth curled into a fond smile. Luhan is so in love with him, this god of winter that radiates warmth like no other. 

Minseok kisses him, brief and chaste, and it’s overwhelming and grounding and comforting all at once. Maybe it’s the godliness, or maybe it’s just cause it’s Minseok, but Luhan doesn’t think he’ll ever tire of kissing him. 

Minseok pulls away from where Luhan had subconsciously rolled over, splaying himself half on top of Minseok’s chest, and pats Luhan on the bum. “Rise and shine, it’s your turn to make the breakfast coffee.” 

Luhan stumbles to the bathroom, eyes still bleary, and washes out his morning breath with Minseok’s favorite minty toothpaste. He can hear Minseok in the kitchen, singing and most likely dancing along to the latest girl group song. He smiles, picturing Minseok wiggling his cute hips and butt around to the beat, and hurries to rinse the foam out of his mouth. 

His lover is prodding at some concerningly charred bacon on the stove, for as much of a genius Minseok is when it comes to coffee (iced Americano in particular), cooking on a stovetop is not his forte. But neither is it Luhan’s, so they’ll just have to deal with it. There’s a reason they switch off breakfast duties. 

Minseok barely looks up when Luhan walks over to their much beloved coffee machine. Luhan’s made coffee so many times that he could do it in his sleep, and within minutes, two fresh cups of coffee are sitting on the table, right beside the slightly burnt bacon breakfast sandwiches. Luckily, Minseok can’t really mess up toast too badly, so the slight taste of char is almost imperceptible. Luhan crunches down happily, watching Minseok chew his breakfast, looking like a squirrel storing acorns in his cheeks. 

Sometimes he forgets that Minseok is a powerful god, capable of stranding travelers in neverending blizzards when he gets mad. 

Not that Luhan has firsthand experience with that. 

Breakfast passes by in a comfortable silence (or rather, Minseok is passing it in a comfortable silence. Luhan is preoccupied by watching the sunlight hit Minseok’s silvery strands, forming diamonds in his hair.) 

Minseok washes the dishes while Luhan takes out the trash, falling into their easy routine. It’s a little too brisk out, and Luhan shivers. He’d have to ask Minseok nicely to cut back on the winter chill. 

By the time Luhan makes his way back inside, Minseok has his work spread out of the coffee table, and he’s relaxing into his armchair. People send him offerings along with their requests, so Minseok always has the oddest assortment of items. There’s the people who still abide by tradition, and Minseok turns up his nose at the pile of animal bones and fat. 

“Seriously,” Minseok gripes, picking up what looks like a half eaten lamb chop, “What do they expect me to do with this?” He picks up the attached request. “Dear God of Winter, my neighbor is really annoying so please kill all their crops.” He snorts. “Do I have to?” He flicks the request into the reject pile. 

“Do they realize that if you make the weather for their neighbor terrible they’re also only going to get terrible weather?” Luhan asks curiously, squeezing himself next to Minseok on his one personal armchair and pulling out his knitting needles. 

Minseok scowls at him, like he does everyday when Luhan tries sitting on what’s essentially his throne. Luhan pouts, picking himself up and moving to his usual seat by the flickering fireplace. “Was worth a shot.”

“Maybe I should send a really bad blizzard just to mess with them,” Minseok says thoughtfully. He drags the request back over to the accept pile, though he flings the lamb chop into the open trash barrel with frighteningly accurate aim. His fingertips glow a frosty blue, and the letter dissolves into snowflakes. 

Luhan should’ve kept his mouth shut. Sometimes he forgets how  _ petty  _ gods are. 

He turns his attention back to his knitting needles, where the makings of a silvery blue beanie sit. His needles click together steadily, the hat growing larger. 

“Hey, listen to this one,” Minseok breaks the silence on Luhan’s fourth row, nudging his shin with one tiny socked foot to get his attention. He picks up a request that looks like it was done in purple crayon. “Dear Mr. Minseok, I’ve never seen snow before and my new best friend that moved here yesterday misses snow a lot so can you please make it snow for us for just one day thank you Mr. Minseok. I sent you my best drawing of us.” The offering that accompanies the request is a crayon drawing of two children, clearly drawn with as much care as a child with developing motor skills could do. Minseok coos. “How adorable.” He snaps his fingers, and the note disappears into a small flurry. “The adults will just have to wonder why it’s snowing in the middle of the summer in Florida.” 

Luhan smiles at the sight of Minseok, gummy smile out in full force, as he grants the child’s request. Most requests for the god of ice, snow, and all things cold are for him to  _ lessen  _ his impact. Minseok is understanding, of course, but Luhan knows that it never feels great for his domain to be so thoroughly detested. 

“That was the last one,” Minseok says, sitting back and rubbing the heels of his palms into his eyes. He looks adorable, like a sleepy toddler. 

“No, it wasn’t,” Luhan says. He ties up the loose ends of the wool hat and gathers it up in his hands, kneeling by the fireplace. 

“Dear beloved Minseok,” he begins. Luhan looks back at Minseok, who’s watching him with curious eyes and a small smile playing on his lips. “Go away,” Luhan protests. “You’re not supposed to hear it.” 

Minseok rolls his eyes. “I’ll see it in literally two seconds.” But he acquiesces, moving into the kitchen to make their daily afternoon coffee.

Luhan mutters his request into the flame, taking care so that Minseok won’t overhear him, and sets the beanie into the fire. 

Within seconds, it reappears on their coffee table, along with a note covered in Luhan’s chicken scratch. Minseok returns, bearing two cups of coffee. Luhan takes his gratefully. 

Minseok picks up the beanie first, trying it on, and — oops. Luhan can’t hold back a chuckle. It seems he slightly overestimated the size of his head, since the blue wool slips right over Minseok’s eyes, covering half his face and making him look even smaller. Luhan’s heart feels like it’s about to burst from cuteness. 

Minseok giggles a little, and pulls it back so he can see. He picks up the letter. 

Here it comes. Luhan picks up the coffee and takes a sip to quell his nerves. 

But, wait. 

Something’s not right. 

Minseok makes the best coffee in the world. His iced Americano is bitter in the best way, refreshing and energizing. 

But this is cloyingly, sinisterly sweet. 

“Something wrong?” Minseok murmurs. His voice echoes. It doesn’t sound like him. As Luhan watches, his face seems to shift — but gone too fast for Luhan to process. Minseok blinks innocently at him, a pout on his face.

“You don’t like it?” Minseok questions, a little too angelically. 

Luhan’s lover is a little shit. He would never bat his eyelashes at Luhan like this. Luhan’s limbs start to feel heavy, lethargic. He shakes his head again, more firmly this time. Minseok’s eyes flash red. His teeth elongate into fangs. 

But a second later, Minseok’s face is back, the picture perfect expression of concern. “Are you okay, Luhan? Here, take another drink.” 

Luhan pushes the cup away harshly, not caring that it splashes out and spills all over the letter still on the table. There’s something that feels like small hands slapping his face. 

“Stop,” he mutters. “Yixing, stop hitting me.” 

“Yixing?” Minseok asks strangely. 

Why did Luhan say Yixing? But the more he thinks about it, the more it seems right. 

“Wake up, stupid,” Yixing’s voice chides. Luhan squeezes his eyes shut and forces them open again. Minseok’s face begins to fade from view. The cushion he’s sitting on turns to stone. His arms and legs are screaming in pain. 

Luhan opens his eyes to see a dark, damp cave and Yixing doing his best to shake him awake. 

\--

When Luhan gets his bearings back, he realizes three things. 

One, Yixing’s little punches really hurt. He probably has a dozen tiny bruises dotting his face from how the fairy tried to wake him up.

Two, he’s wrapped up like a mummy in a bunch of spider webs. 

Three, there’s a monster spider snoring away in the corner. 

“What is Minseok’s name is this,” Luhan groans. 

“Did you piss off Kyungsoo recently?” Yixing snaps. “Cause it looks like he sent his minion after you.” 

“Wha—” Luhan splutters. “His stupid spider was crawling all over my face while I was sleeping so I freaked out! How is that my fault?”

Yixing pinches his nose. “He’s probably bored,” he says. “Gods are like that. You should know. Maybe he just wants to mess with Minseok.” 

Minseok and Kyungsoo really take “sibling rivalry” to the next level, Luhan thinks sourly. “Well, get me out of here, then!”

“I can’t,” Yixing says, frustrated. He pulls at the web so hard that he tumbles backwards, but the binding just snaps back like an elastic. 

“I have a knife, somewhere,” Luhan wiggles. He doesn’t accomplish anything except for looking like a worm. “What is that thing, anyway?” 

“Kyungsoo’s pet, Meokmul. It uses illusions to trap its prey.” 

“Was I about to be  _ eaten?”  _ Luhan looks up, horrified. 

“Well, yes. What did you think you were being tied up for?” 

“What were you doing all this time? Aren’t you supposed to be my  _ guardian? _ ” 

“Who do you think put Meokmul to sleep?” Yixing asks, affronted. “It’s not like I could’ve pulled you back by sheer force. Now, shut up and get your knife before it wakes up and tries to eat you again.” 

“It’s in my left boot.” He lifts his foot as high as he can, the only part of his body other than his head not bound in webs. 

Yixing continuously mutters inaudible complaints under his breath as he goes to pull off Luhan’s shoe, lifting the dagger with both hands and dragging it inelegantly along Luhan’s side. 

“Watch it!” Luhan squeaks, trying to recoil from the sharp blade. He’s not very successful, and the dagger rips through the denim of his jeans. He’s pretty sure Yixing did that on purpose. 

When he’s finally freed from the web, Luhan scrambles to his feet. “I need food and a fire,” he says, spinning around wildly to look for his back. It’s webbed to the cave wall behind the spider, and he has to hold back a whimper as he steps a little too close to those spider fangs for comfort. 

Yixing flies back into the cave and drops a bundle of dry twigs on the ground. Luhan lights a match with shaky hands, and as soon as the flame picks up, he upends the contents of his pack into the fire. 

“Dear Kyungsoo, god of spiders,” Luhan begins desperately. “Please don’t kill me. Please don’t feed me to Meokmul. Thank you.” He hopes his note shows up in all capitals. 

“Let’s go home,” he turns to Yixing. 

“Well, the good news is that we’re not far,” his companion says. 

“And the bad news?” Luhan asks, all but running out of the cave. He stops short when the familiar sound of rushing water meets his ears.

At his feet is a waterfall — the very same one that leads to home.

“The bad news,” Yixing drawls, “Is that we’ve arrived at your least favorite part of any journey.” 

Which is the part where Luhan needs to jump off a waterfall. Wonderful. 

\--

“Yixing, I really can’t do this,” Luhan says desperately. He’s knee deep in rushing water, about a foot away from the precipice. He clenches his fists by his side to control the tremors wracking through his body, but his entire being is still thrumming like an anxious hummingbird. Who’s bright idea was it to live in a place where a waterfall is the only path to the rest of the world, again?

The fairy just pats him on the shoulder. “You’ve done this before, you can do it!” 

“That’s not helpful,” Luhan grits. 

“Minseok’s waiting for you,” Yixing points out. “The real Minseok. Besides, don’t you have something to ask him?”

Luhan’s hand reaches into his pocket instinctively. The cool metal is still there, small and insignificant but weighing about a ton. 

He takes one more stuttered step closer to the edge, but quickly retreats. “I can’t do it, Yixing. You’re going to have to push me.” 

“I am not going to  _ push  _ you off a  _ waterfall,  _ Luhan.” 

“Well, I am not going to  _ jump _ off a waterfall, Yixing! This is why I don’t leave the house!”

Yixing crosses his arms. Luhan crosses his own right back. 

“Luhan?” The most wonderful sound that Luhan’s heard in ages comes from the bottom of the waterfall. 

Minseok. 

His silver hair is longer now, as fluffy as an untouched snowbank. He’s wearing a soft gray sweater, and Luhan recognizes it as the sweater he had knitted for Minseok just before he left for his journey. There’s a huge smile on his face, and Luhan wants to sob from how much he had missed it. 

“Come here, Lu-ge.” Minseok opens his arms wide, stationing himself right at the bottom of the roaring waters. “I’ve got you.” 

Without giving himself time to hesitate, Luhan leaps and allows himself to fly. He hurtles through the air, dimly aware of the torrent beside him, spraying against his clothes, of Yixing’s wings fluttering behind him. All he can see is Minseok. 

And the fall is both too long and over in the blink of an eye, and Luhan finds himself against Minseok’s warm chest, strong arms around him, the scent of peppermint filling his nostrils.

He’s finally home. 

####  **Epilogue** :

“What were you looking for, anyway?” Minseok curiously asks from Luhan's side. Luhan’s finally managed to wheedle his way into Minseok’s armchair, citing his traumatic experience with Meokmul as the excuse. It’s a very comfortable chair, made even better by the fact that Minseok is pressed right up against him for them both to fit. 

“Um, er,” Luhan sighs in disappointment. Just when he had finally worked his way into the chair. He gets to his feet and makes his way over to the fireplace. Hopefully it works out this time. 

His fist closes around the ring in his pocket, very aware of Minseok’s inquisitive eyes on him. He whispers his request, and drops his prize into the fireplace. 

When he turns around, Minseok’s eyes are glassy, but his lips are drawn back in an awed smile. 

A golden ring sits on the table. Beside it, reads a note in Luhan’s chicken scratch. 

_ Dear beloved Minseok. Will you marry me?  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things that didn't totally make it into the fic but was hopefully clear enough in the story:
> 
> \- The doe was one of the shapeshifting illusions. The apple was planted to pull Luhan into the illusion, which is why it was the only piece of fresh fruit in a pack full of dried rations. 
> 
> \- The coffee was poison, meant to immobilize Luhan to be eaten. 
> 
> \- The spider monster was based off of and originally was going to be a Japanese oni, the Tsuchigumo. Halfway through the fic, I went on wikipedia and found out that it was also used as a slur against local clans, so I was like welp not using that. But that made it easier for me to write anyway because then I could make the spider do whatever I wanted without adhering to the folklore. http://yokai.com/tsuchigumo/


End file.
